


The Thing With Memories

by BlarrDeHarr



Series: In Memorium [1]
Category: Descendants (2015), The Isle of the Lost - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, F/M, M/M, Multi, Psychological Torture, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlarrDeHarr/pseuds/BlarrDeHarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing with memories is, they never completely fade away.<br/>When you crack, a scar is left behind.<br/>When you break, a memory is left behind.</p>
<p>The thing with parents, is no matter what happens, they love you, you hate them, or vice versa; You will never be strong enough to say "No" to them, or to leave them.<br/>You may want to, but in the end,<br/>They terrify your very soul.<br/>And they will kill you.</p>
<p>The Rotten Four learn that the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rudiment

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a whim.  
> Definition: Rudiment a mere beginning, first slight appearance, or undeveloped or imperfect form of something.  
> I officially apologize, this is UN-beta'd!
> 
> Theme: "They terrify your very soul, and they will kill you. Yes they gave you life, but there is no love, and there never will be love."

The thing with memories is, they never completely fade away. When you crack, a scar is left behind. When you break, a memory is left behind.  
The thing with parents, is no matter what happens, they love you, you hate them, or vice versa; You will never be strong enough to say "No" to them, or to leave them. You may want to, but in the end, They terrify your very soul, and they will kill you. Yes they gave you life, but there is no love, and there never will be love.

*~^ *~^ *~^

They all knew it, before they knew each other. They wished, and they dreamed. They begged and they pleaded, there was no safe place. They were living in hell. Everyone accepted that, not only was it spoken of, their parents reminded them, day-to-day. How they don't even compare to them. How they aren't their kids, and will never be their kids.  
With Jay, aged eight, he was never fast enough, never quiet enough, too weak, too whiny, never enough for him. There was always something he did wrong. Carlos, aged six, the chair was turned, there was too much dust, not enough fluff in her furs, her roots were lacking, she was just pissed, and he had just left a speck of dust on her favorite table piece of rubbish. Mal, aged eight, was no good at being evil, she couldn't show her heritage for more then 4.3 seconds without feeling the need to collapse in failure, she talked too much, was seen too much. Evie, aged seven, her makeup was smudged, she allowed the scum of the island look at her, she smiled, she cried, she was human, not the plastic doll her mother needed to carry on the legacy.  
They each had their own thing. Didn't really care about others, didn't really know others. Closets, sheets, mats, or worn and rotted pillows were their boats to nightmares fueled by their parent's desire and anger. Years after, if there was ever an after, they would feel its effects.

*~^ *~^ *~^

It wasn't that bad.  
Okay, he was going to die. A twisted ankle and slightly cracked clavicle was the least of his worries. All he had to do was fluff her furs, dust the tops of the spider caves (cupboards), and get the blood out of the gray carpets. Only in, three turns of the dial. Piece of rotten apple, right?  
_He was dead._

*~^ *~^ *~^

Hands twitching, she reaches for a brush. No frowning, smiling, no wrinkles.  
Beauty is pain. Beauty is pain.  
_Beauty is lonely_.  
She puts down the brush, and slowly shuts her bedroom door.  
Now where did she put that Sodium and Chlorine?

*~^ *~^ *~^

Weak. Is he seriously younger then him? Who has 'brass' knuckles on the Island? Who has 'brass' knuckles and can't knock an Eight year old on his ass? The dude started it, he might as well try to make it fun for Jay.  
Okay, so maybe the fight was his fault.  
How was he supposed to know not to touch the stuffed bird? Well... he tried to touch it, then steal it, but who cares? They are villains, right?  
Isn't he supposed to steal it and sell it back double?  
That's the _rule_ , right?  
Whoever has the money, has the power, right?

*~^ *~^ *~^

Just one more.  
One more mark.  
One more mistake.  
One more disappointment.  
Its why she lives, right? To _disappoint?_  
At least she has her art.  
Her legs the canvas, the little stub of a kitchen knife her pen.  
Her favorite color is purple, but red isn't so bad.


	2. Repent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written on a whim.  
> Definition: Repent - feel or express sincere regret or remorse about one's wrongdoing or sin.  
> I officially apologize, this is UN-beta'd! 
> 
> Theme: "I mean, she loves me, sure, but not as much as her coats."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all chapters, Prolly, will be under 1,000 unless I get really inspired, so this work might be done in a month or so!
> 
> (Its a series of One-shots that just so happen to form a story, basically)

Carlos

*~^ *~^ *~^  
“GET BACK HERE BOY! I WILL KILL YOU! CARLOS!” Running, running, running. Weaving through the crowded streets, bumping into and pushing everybody I could out of the way.  
_She is going to kill me!_  
“Gotta hide, gotta run..” Skidding by a few people, a dull throb erupts in my ankle. I sharply inhale and duck around a corner.  
“Not so fast kid.” I froze. “Running, takes practice. At least know to check the alley before diving into it, especially with an ankle like yours.” Slowly turning, I have to look up to see kid, a few years older then me, with a goofy grin.  
“Wh-what would y-you know about running?” I ask and wince. Mother hates questions.  
“Well.. its kinda something I do.”  
“Running?” Wince.  
“What do you do?” Blank faced, I tilt my head. “Ya'know. How do you survive? Like what did you get from your parent?” He's smart, no one has two parents here. Or two parents willing to put up with us.  
“M-M-Mother can...” _What can she do?_  
“You Mom can what?” Shrugging, I look away first. “What's your name at least. Come on.” My eyes are rooted to the ground, I will not look up unless its life or death. “Its either you tell me, or I toss your head into the barrier to see how long it takes for you to fry”  
“De Vil. My M-M-Mother is Cruella De Vil. I-I'm Carlos...” My eyes wide as saucers, I move to look up again.  
“I'm a thief. Its my trade. It will always be my trade. Soon, nothing on this isle will be new to me. I'll have helped Pops sell it all” With a bright grin he picks me up and set me on his shoulder, stomach down. I start to panic. “How much will your 'M-M-Mother' pay for you?”

*~^ *~^ *~^

Maybe I could convince him to let me go?  
_Thieves stake claims, what am I worth to him?_  
Thinking back to where I sleep, it's quite evident of my Mother’s lack of true love for me.  
_Maybe one of Mother’s fur coats would do the trick? I exist to keep them nice…_  
The more I thought about it the more it made sense. The thief would get a whole better deal if he took the furs instead of me. I mean, she loves me, sure, but not as much as her coats.  
_Just say it already!_  
“Um... Sir?” Wince. _question..._ “Excuse me.. Thief...”  
“We're all thieves here kid. Some are just more practiced then others. What?”  
“I'm not worth much-”  
“None of us are”  
“-a better deal would be a coat. I could get you one...” Pause.  
“Did you just offer to .. _help_ me?” With a grip as strong as steel, he sets me down. “Here's the deal.”The thief bends down to my height, grip almost crushing my arm “Villains are cruel. We are killers.”  
“Like dogs?!?!” He chuckles, then nods.  
“Yes I guess; like dogs. We are vicious killers who other help to nobody unless it benefits us.”  
“It does help me though.” Confusion crosses his face. With a tilted head he urges me to speak. “I get to live”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might update every other day, who knows?
> 
> :D


	3. Crossfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written on a whim.  
> Definition: Crossfire - a situation involving conflicting claims, forces, etc.  
> I officially apologize, this is UN-beta'd!
> 
> Theme: "As a Thief, you learn things about your prey."

Jay

*~^ *~^ *~^

This kid was, well, something else. No matter what happens, as a Thief, you learn things about your prey. Their different quirks, a few of their tells, maybe even a hobby of theirs, as far as I could tell the De Vil kid had no hobbies. His only hobby or something like it was being terrified of his Mom.

“Could you slow down?” I looked down at the kid and his arm I was pulling.

“Believe it or not, kid. I got places to be and people to see. I'd like to hurry up, but the only way I could do that would be to pick you up again. Which do you prefer?” Carlos hummed in response. “Now or never, De Vil. Pick carefully...” Carlos seemed to think very carefully about his response.

“Let's just keep almost running.”

“Great decision. Let's go!” I tore off, shoving literally everybody in my path, while laughing at the kid's cries behind me to slow down. “You said you wanted to run! We're running!”

"I SAID ALMOST!"

*~^ *~^ *~^

“Hey Dad! Back with today's haul!” I called, squaring my shoulders.

“Over here!” As I walk in the room, Dad's eyes widen comically and he drops the spoon he was.. _Polishing_. “You got a fur coat?! From Cruella?” I nod as he takes the coat off of me and inspects it. “Is that all?” As he turns towards me, all I see is greed in his eyes.

“Y-yeah.” He sighs heavily.

“It will do. Leave, get a drink or something... I don't care.” He grumbled, leaving the room and heading into the shop.

“Good Idea Pops..”

*~^ *~^ *~^

Sitting in a pool of blood, I take a slow, long sip of beer.

_It burns_

I start to laugh, but I hear a shuffling of feet.

“Why are we here?”

“If we can't go in the day, we'll go in the night. Come now darling. Head high! Head high!”

“Yes Mommy...” I peer around the corner, seeing the Evil Queen and what appears to be her daughter. 

_Its go time!_

*~^ *~^ *~^

They've been walking. For hours. That's _all_ they've been doing! Walking!

I sigh. Haven't learned much except the need to be plastic with sores on your feet. Wait a minute.

“Eeevieee!”

*“Yes Mommy Dearest?”* 

“What have you eaten today?”

“R-rotten Ap-pple?”

_Smack!_

“Now look what eating that apple got you? A BRUISE!”

“Yes Mommy”

“Remember _Next_ time”

_Damn_

“Practice somemore, remember head...” Her voice faded into the night as I stared up into the dome, this night was ruined. I learned nothing.

“Whatcha doing up there?” I fall off of the roof at the sound of the girl's voice. “Hi!”

“Hey...” I grunt while standing, brushing off the dust, trying to stare her down.

“You look like shit” She says, casually _She seems unaffected by staring..._ I look at her earrings.

“We all do”

“Well I made _my_ outfit, so _I_ don't!” She humphed. “I don't.. right?” I sigh.

“Kid, you look kind of rotten” She grins then, wide and full of light. I take an earring.

“Good! That's the POINT!” She laughs, frowns, then gasps.

“What?” I say, now on high alert.

“Wrinkles!”

“Seriously? Well, leaving ya kid. Bye...”

“What's your name?!”

“What's yours?”

“Evie!”

“Well, 'Evie!'” I mimic and she giggles. _There might be some light on this island. It won't last long. It never does._ “I'm Jay. Call me if ya need me, I answer half the time”

“Will I see you again?”

“No. You don't want me to answer. I'm evil. I'm rotten. I'm bad news.”

“Like me!”

“No, E.” She squeals at the abbreviation “Not like you. You are a cinnamon roll. I am a rotten apple, at the core.”

“Well see you later, Rotten Jay!”

As a Thief, you learn things about your prey.

This time, the prey learned more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I made a reference I couldn't not make...*


	4. Advancement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written on a whim.  
> Definition: **Advancement - development or improvement.**  
>  I officially apologize, this is UN-beta'd!
> 
>  
> 
> **Theme: " _No one is good enough _."__**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating THREE times today.
> 
> Now, with a **half** chapter, _later today_ with the **other half** to this chapter, then _tonight into tomorrow morning_ the next **FULL chapter** will be up.
> 
> :D

Evie

*~^ *~^ *~^

_No one is good enough._

_No one is good enough for their parent._

_I used to think I could be, but those days are over. Mom isn't reasonable. She... she doesn't want me to be my best. She wants me to be imperfect to make her look better. So here's my goal._

_Get a Prince. Get lots of mirrors. Get more food then scraps. Get help for my Mom. I mean, royals should have more food then this, right? I mean if they can send it over... And what happens when someone is sick? You know, in the head? What happens then?_

__*~^ *~^ *~^

_A year has passed since Mom.. started a.... tradition._

_I don't really know what it is. I honestly don't._

_She doesn't even really do anything except yell at me._

__*~^ *~^ *~^

_Its different, now._

_Now, Mom chants something weird, tries to look at something called the Moon, sighs and points out my flaws._

_After that she beats me, so she can have more flaws to point out._

_Its never in the face though, like we need to keep appearances for the pub- but keeping appearances is important.._

__*~^ *~^ *~^

_I can't read. She hasn't taught me yet._

_I want to go to school. I can't._

_At least I have my sidekick here with me.._

__*~^ *~^ *~^

_He's dead. My little cat is dead. I need to leave._

_I'm sneaking out, tonight._

 

Walking down the castle steps, I notice two things. One, we have literally rubbish decor, and two, Mom's not here.

_Perfect_

*~^ *~^ *~^

Everything is so, chaotic! There are people, everywhere!

“Jeez, watch it! I'm walking here!” I immediately throw my head down and move away. “Where ya going huh? Why are you leaving? We were having-” He grabs my arm and shoves me against the wall “a conversation. What's your name, who're you from, why're you here?”

“Same, I'll answer if you answer. One question at a time.”

“Jay”

“Evie”

“You don't need to know”

“You don't get to know”

“Touché, and my job”

“My job as well.”

“Oh really”

“Yeah?”

“You” He looks around “Have a job?”

“Yeah? What's so difficult to understand?”

“You are-”

“Fair?”

“-a princess!” He exclaims, then looks around carefully. “You are a fucking princess. You walk like one, act like one, dress like one...” He trails off, looking at my ensemble. 

“Need something, Prince?”

“What?”

“Jay. Son of Jafar. Prince of Thieves.”

“How do y- that's what they call me?”

“Parent taught me. Yes, you are only a rising villain's kid. You aren't a Villain yourself, and even if you were your dad would be considered the King of Thieves. So yes. You're the Prince of Thieves”

“Don't call me that.”

“Not like we're going to be seeing each other again!”

“Good point”

“Aren't they always?”

“What are you doing out here anyways?”

“Well you are trying to steal my necklace, and I don't want that”

“How-”

“My accessories have been out of your reach the entire time I've been here, which would be the entirety of my life, and I'm Eleven, while you look to be about Twelve, so almost your entire life as well.”

“You... Are... Observant” He says it slowly, as if he's making sure he's saying the right thing.

“I guess.”

“I'm a thief.” _Is he an idiot or something?_

“Well, yeah? I thought we already established that”

“You are pretty.”

“Uhh-”

“Cunning, and have a way with words.”

“I-I guess?”

“Want to be partners?”

_He has to be crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SECOND HALF UP! IN 12 HOURS THE NEXT ONE WILL BE UP!
> 
> :D


	5. Trauma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written on a whim.  
> Definition: **Trauma -a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.**  
>  I officially apologize, this is UN-beta'd!
> 
>  
> 
> **Theme: " _He was broken, or dead. There was no other explanation for this amount of blood, nor for the crumpled body on the floor in the corner."_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this yesterday.  
>  _As a draft._  
>  I'm so sorry I thought I actually posted it!  
> It just- I- *sighs*  
> Hope you enjoy.  
> :D

Jay

*~^ *~^ *~^

_”LIAR!”_

_“I didn't do it!”_

_“WHY DO YOU INIST ON LYING?”_

_“I-”_

_“Closet. NOW JAY, NOW!”_

*~^ *~^ *~^

Thieving is easier if you have someone to provide a distraction. Especially if they happen to only be taught how to manipulate.

“Better yet, when they are actually good at it, right Jay?” Evie appeared next to me, smirking.

“Um, what?”

“You were just- never mind. So who do you want me to meet?”

“He's, sensitive. Kind of like you” Thinking of the tiny pup that resides in Hell Hall made me laugh.

“I'm not-”

“You are a cinnamon roll” She glared at me.

“Not. Funny” I laugh harder. “Seriously!” I start to cry. “Come one Prince, let's just go”

“Don't call me Prince! And it was funny” She glared and stomped away. “It was!” 

*~^ *~^ *~^

Hell Hall was interesting to say the very least. Many windows, just not a lot of light. The same could be said about the island itself.

“C is, wary of new faces. You are the first one he will meet.”

“What do you mean by first?”

“Let's just say I have another partner, one not too keen on people. At least, more then one person”

“Do I know them?”

“I hope not”

“Okay then” I look around, watching and listening for any sign of life.

“Yeah, Carlos?” a bit of shuffling can be heard from inside a closet, until a short boy stumbles out of it, fear and surprise showing on his features.

“H-Here?” He stares at Evie, then turns to me with wide eyes.

“Carlos, this is Evie, E, this is Carlos.” Carlos looks down sheepishly while Evie just stares at his torn jacket “Carlos, get along with her, you'll probably be seeing a lot more of her. Same with you, Evie”

“B-bu-”

“H-he doesn't”

“Why w-would sh-”

“We haven't really-” They start to speak at the same time

“I don't want to make her/him uncomfortable” They freeze, look at each other and start talking over each other.

“See!” they pause their own set of ramblings and look at me pointedly. “You guys are a lot alike!”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but can we talk Prince? You know, the two of us?” Carlos snorts.

“P-Prince?”

“Yeah you like it?”

“Why is h-”

“His Dad is king. So he's the Prince.”

“Of Thieves? That's-”

“Perfect? Yeah. I know.” I snort.

“Nerds. Also what did I say? Don't call me that!” Carlos and Evie start laughing, then Carlos freezes. After a few seconds, Evie freezes as well.

“What was that?” Evie asks Carlos.

“M-”

“CARLOS?! WHERE ARE YOU!” My eyes widen considerably. “GET DOWN HER NOW BOY! I HAVE THE LIST!” All color drains from Carlos' face and Evie and I flinch at her town as well as volume.

“COMING!” He turns to us “Leave. Now.”

“COME. NOW!” Cruella De Vil screeches.

*“See you in a few days” is all he whispers as he slinks down the stairs.*

“So that's Carlos, huh.” Evie sat down smirking. “He's just a little kid and has all the snark in the world”

“You're one to talk.”

“What?”

“Come on, _princess_ Admit it.”

“Take that back!”

“What? Princess?”

“Yeah!”

“Stop calling me Prince then!”

“Not going to happen!”

“Likewise, Princess”

“Oh thanks, Prince.” Realizing how that sounded, Evie started blushing.

“What?”

“That combination means two different things. One, we're siblings. Two, we're in a...”

“Wuss.”

“R-rel....”

“Spit it out, Princess. I can't wait forever, gotta help _the dog_ with his chores”

“Wait the dog?” I then proceeded to clear my throat.

“He likes to say 'Mother is vicious. Dogs are vicious. I am vicious.' then he growls. He's a complete cinnamon roll.” Evie started giggling.

“That's adorable.”

“DO IT RIGHT NEXT TIME AND MAYBE YOU WON'T HAVE TO BE PUNISHED”

“Is that-”

“WORTHLESS BRAT! YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE, GO TO YOUR CLOSET”

Flattening ourselves, we waited for Carlos to come running up the steps. However, all we heard was the front door shut and whimpers coming from downstairs. Evie started down the stairs until I grabbed her arm and pulled me back.

“What are you doing?”

“He needs help!”

“Are you a Villain Kid or Hero, a _Princess_?” I snarled at her. Narrowing her eyes, she twisted my arm to make me let go of her. I complied and watched her go down the stairs. She stopped halfway.

“Come on _Prince_. I know you want to help him too” I sigh, but I follow.

*~^ *~^ *~^

He was broken, or dead. There was no other explanation for this amount of blood, nor for the crumpled body on the floor in the corner.

_Red. White. Black. Its all a blur. I-I thought that just the dark was bad. The dark paired with cold and hunger, but still. I get hit only when I've majorly fucked up. This is-_

“Insane. Cruella is insane.” Evie is just shaking her head and walking over to Carlos.

“Cinnamon roll” I mutter under my breath. “Let's see the list. Evie, stitch him up” Evie grabs the list and hands it to me. Quickly scanning over the three paged list I scowl in disgust. “No one should have to do this much.” Evie grabs the list back, this time her hands slightly bloody. Glancing over at Carlos, I see he's out cold with a newly stitched side and a jacket like thing holding his wound.

“We can do this. Everything except the furs. I don't want to mess them up. Each fur is fluffed another way, it gets complicated and Mommy hasn't taught me yet.” She then sighs, closes her eyes and taps her thighs. Once. Twice. Thrice. “Okay Prince. Let's do this.”

“Don't call me that.”

“What should I call you then?”

“Jay. You start on the carpet, I'll dust. I'm tall, it would be easier for me to reach”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is where the original chapter ended. I decided to give you guys basically a double chapter to excuse my blunder, I hope it worked!*
> 
> Sorry again!  
> The regular schedule is back though which means I might write more today and give another chapter, but that is unlikely.
> 
> :D


End file.
